Another Princess Of Mars
by Morwen Tindomerel
Summary: A story based on ERB's books not the movie. Being the sister of the most beautiful woman in the world really sucks until Kadjah Thoris elopes with her love. But many miles lie and between Helium and Pharos - and this is Barsoom where anything can happen!
1. The Rescue of Dejah Thoris

Few outside of the Empire of Helium know and few within that realm trouble to acknowledge that there are two princesses in the House of Tardos Mors. The name of Dejah Thoris is known and her beauty hymned in the most remote courts of Barsoom. The name of Kadjah Thoris is rarely heard even within her father's palace and her praises spoken by none.

I am Kadjah Thoris, elder daughter of Mors Kajak Jed of Lesser Helium and Thoris of Accer his princess but all my life I have been eclipsed by the glorious Dejah Thoris, my younger sister. I confess that oft times the bitterness of my heart overflowed into anger against my kin, my city and my people – but not against Dejah Thoris, no never against my sister. Why so? Because in all of Helium's vast territories the sole person who loved and valued me as I longed to be loved and valued was that same Dejah Thoris thus I was no less devastated by her loss then the rest of Helium and though the thought that _my_ disappearance would excite no such grief, no such frantic search, passed through my mind I did not dwell on it.

She could not be dead. She must not be dead. Holy Issus let my sister be alive! Oh Dejah, my darling Dejah Thoris…

Father found me grieving in a window embrasure of the gallery linking the official parts of our palace to the private apartments. "Do not weep so, daughter," he said kindly – he is always kind when he notices me at all – "Your sister is as strong and clever as she is lovely. We must not give up hope!" but his voice broke slightly on the word for he and I both knew how slight the chances were for any soul cast away upon our dying world.

Then, as is often the way on Barsoom, matters grew worse.

Zodanga, a hostile city on our eastern borders, had shamefully attacked the remnants of Dejah Thoris' expedition as the damaged ships limped home. They followed up this dishonorable behavior by taking advantage of the absence of our fleet, spread out over Barsoom searching for any trace of my sister, to lay siege to the twin cities. A few fliers managed to escape in the early days of the investment but as weeks passed, each bringing further death and destruction from above, hope of help reaching us in time faded.

Then one day, instead of the usual fleets of bombers, sunrise brought a party of Zodangans to our gates with spears reversed crying for parley. The delegation was admitted and my grandsire, father and the other jeds and jedwars assembled in the council chamber to give them audience. I too was present though not by invitation. To watch - oh let me speak plainly, to _spy_ – upon the doings of the court was my chief amusement and there was no chamber in either royal palace to which I had not a secret way and some hiding place from which I might witness unseen all that was said or done. My watch post for the council chamber of the palace of Greater Helium lay between the two shells of the dome, the inner adorned with stars formed of gemstones and lit by radium bulbs, and the outer of highly polished white marble. Many years ago I had removed two of the radium bulbs to make eyeholes commanding the entirety of the chamber.

The Jeddak Tardos Mors, my father's father, sat on his throne of plain basalt directly below me with Mors Kajak, my sire on his right hand and his councilors ranged on the stone benches against the curving walls of the circular room. The delegation from Zodanga, deceptively noble seeming in their glittering harnesses, stood on the stylized tree of life inlaid in precious stones in the center of the floor. An unkempt figure in unadorned leather trappings stood in their midst like a guarded prisoner.

"First, O Tardos Mors, we return to you one of your own found alone and dying on the dead sea bottom," the leader proclaimed and pushed the dirty and undecorated man forward. I smothered a gasp. I knew him. It was Kantos Kan one of the few survivors of Dejah Thoris' expedition, a brave man and loyal warrior last heard of doing his part in the search for my sister.

I could not see my grandfather's expression but I could guess at it as he said; "Generous is the hospitality of Zodanga that cannot spare a guest water for bathing or fresh harness!"

The Zodangan's face darkened in anger, or maybe embarrassment. "Be that as it may, Noble Jeddak. We come as an embassage from Than Kosis, Jeddak of Zodanga, first to tell you your daughter is found and safe in our city -"

The councilors whispered in shock I looked at Kantos Kan and saw him give a slight nod. So it was true! Quietly I beat my head against the thin metal of the inner dome. I could easily guess what was coming next!

And sure enough; "The son of Than Kosis, Sab Than Prince of Zodanga, has fallen in love with the Princess of Helium -" _the_ Princess you will note as if there was no other! "- and his father offers immediate peace and permanent friendship in return for her hand."

"And what of my daughter?" our father asked. "Does she love this Sab Than and add her voice to this fair offer."

Men of Barsoom do not lie easily and to his credit Than Kosis' ambassador didn't even try: "No, Mors Kajak, she does neither."

My grandsire rose from his throne, looming tall above the delegation and they shrank before his anger. "I speak for all of Helium when I say we would sooner look on the dead face of Dejah Thoris than consent to her forced marriage to a man not of her own choosing. As for myself, I would prefer dying amid the ashes of lost and burning Helium to blessing a union of the metal of the House of Mors with that of Zodanga!" Cheers rose from the benches demonstrating that grandfather did indeed speak for all Helium. And that was the end of the parley.

My grandfather passed from the council chamber to his private office accompanied by Father and Kantos Kan. I followed them by my secret ways and soon was settled snugly in another hiding place behind the bright reliefs painted on the panels covering a long sealed doorway.

"You have done enough, Kantos Kan!" my grandfather was saying as the three men entered.

"There are other warriors in Helium," added my father.

"Who know Zodanga?" Kantos Kan demanded. "I lived there nigh on thirty years before Than Kosis confiscated the wealth of our house and drove my kin forth to live or die as we would."

"Do you wonder that I would rather see my granddaughter safe in the arms of Issus than wed to the son of such a man?" Tardos Mors asked rhetorically.

"I will find her, my Jeddak, and bring her safe home to Helium if mortal man might accomplish it!" promised Kantos Kan.

"Go then, and your ancestors and mine give you fortune!" said my grandfather.

"But first have a good meal and a bath!" added my father with the good sense all too rare upon Barsoom.

Days of suspense crawled by. I prayed my sister would have the wit to buy time for rescue with false smiles and blandishments but doubted she would. Dejah, like our grandfather, is the soul of honor – which is all very well save when it overcomes all good sense and practicality. Some concessions to expediency are desirable, especially when in the hands of enemies who have no honor themselves.

I may be disesteemed by both family and city but that is not reflected in any way by my material circumstances. My chambers are as lavishly decorated with brilliantly dyed silks and rare furs and my coffers as full of fabulous jewels as Dejah Thoris's own. And I have no less than three slave girls in constant attendance upon me each with her specific duties; Urta tends to my person, Rahab to my chambers and Sava runs my errands and serves me at table. She and Urta have the additional duty of acting as my sparring partners.

The women of Barsoom no less than the men ordinarily go armed but usually with no more than a slender dagger useless save for slipping between the ribs of a man who embraces one unwilling or one's own to forestall a worse fate. Sava however is a warrior, a rare but not entirely unknown profession for a woman, and as skilled as any man. I elected to take advantage of the opportunity she offered for training in the use of real weapons and Urta chose to join me. Rahab proved less enthusiastic but even she now carries _two_ long fighting daggers and knows how to use them to advantage. My private apartments open onto a terrace overlooking a small rooftop garden carpeted with soft scarlet turf and surrounded by walls of flowering vines which my slave girls and I use as a training ground.

A morning six or seven days after Kantos Kan had left on his mission found my slave girls and I practicing skills we had every expectation of needing to employ in the very near future. Sava prefers the saber with its curved single edged blade but Urta's weapon of choice is the conventional two edged long sword. Over the years I have developed a fighting style unique to myself. From childhood I have been able to use both hands with equal facility in needlework, writing - and swordplay. It seemed to me folly not to make full use of such an advantage thus it is my practice to fight two handed with a pair of single edged, curved short swords. After so many years of sparring together both Sava and Urta have learned many ways of countering my technique but I trusted conventionally trained swordsmen would be less adept.

Steel rang on steel as blades were briskly plied punctuated by an occasional squeal or laugh at a touch. Suddenly a voice so hoarse with tears that I scarcely recognized it cried from within; "Kadjah Thoris? Where is my daughter? Where is my only daughter?"

I turned towards the broad entrance of the reception hall of my chambers, fear in my heart. "Mother?" Thoris of Accer stumbled out onto the terrace, the morning sun showing me a face so devastated and drawn with grief that she seemed to have aged overnight to the full thousand years every Barsoomian may expect if not slain before times. "Mother!" I dropped my swords and ran for the low ramp that ascends to my rooms.

She met me on it and wrapped me in an embrace tight enough to choke off my breath. "Oh, Kadjah, oh my child, I still have one daughter, only the one!"

"Dejah Thoris!" I wheezed. "What has happened to her?"

"Your sister has promised herself to Sab Than of Zodanga," my grandfather replied heavily as he came out onto the terrace above us followed by my father supporting my grandmother the beautiful Ileen Istar.

I assisted Mother to a seat on one of the green ersite benches set under the terrace at the foot of the ramp before turning to my grandsire as he descended to us. "No, she cannot have been so mad!"

"She has," he answered heavily, sitting beside Mother and putting a comforting arm around her shaking shoulders. "The war is over. There will be no further bombardment and our fleets will be allowed to return."

"What can we do? We must do something!" I said desperately. I looked up at the two on the terrace. "Father -"

He smiled painfully down at me. "Than Kosis has thought of that, Helium is still blockaded and will remain so until _after_ the wedding."

"Then we must see Dejah Thoris becomes a widow with all dispatch," I said.

Father and Grandfather both shook their heads. "The person of a kinsman is sacrosanct, Kadjah Thoris."

I shared a significant look with my grandmother. Dejah Thoris may have inherited Ileen Istar's fabled beauty but I have her mind – and grandmother, fortunately for Helium, is much more practical than either father or grandfather. Assassins are easily found and what Tardos Mors and Mors Kajak didn't know would hurt no one.

….

"How can Dejah Thoris be such a fool?" I grumbled later in my bath.

Rahab strewed a handful of pimalia petals on the gently steaming water. "She is trying to save Helium, Kadjah Thoris."

"By giving the heir to Zodanga a claim to the throne?" I demanded. "How safe will Tardos Mors, Mors Kajak, my brothers - or even I - sleep once this marriage has been consummated?"

Rahab bit her lip. "I didn't think of that," she admitted.

"No reason why _you_ – a simple slave girl – should think such thoughts." I retorted. "A Princess of Helium however must!"

Urta folded me in a large warmed towel as I rose from the bath. "No doubt Dejah Thoris, like Tardos Mors, believes in the sacred ties of marriage kin," she said dryly.

"It would be like her," I had to agree.

All three of my slave girls moved purposefully around me. Urta dried my hair, smoothed it with scented oils and interwove it with loops of pure gold as Rahab fastened the ornaments of a Princess of Helium upon me and Sava supported a full length mirror in which I could see and judge my appearance. It was no better and no worse than usual. My little beauty, even enhanced by all that art can do, is so far inferior to that of Dejah Thoris that I have long since given over even wishing it were otherwise. My concern now was whether I would ever again see the splendid beauty of my sister.

Once again the Jeds and Jedwars assembled in the chamber of council and once again I was there to witness their conference but this time openly, seated on the steps of the dais at my grandfather's feet. My father took his place at his father's side and my mother and grandmother were enthroned in small golden chairs flanking Tardos Mors massive basalt judgment seat.

"Helium refuses peace at such a price!" Prince Stal Rask, a kinsman of ours, shouted. "Tell Than Kosis the men of Helium will sell their lives dearly before buying them with our beloved princess!" the men on the benches howled their support.

Tardos Mors raised his hand and the great chamber was instantly silent. "It is too late for that," he said heavily. "My granddaughter has pledged herself to Sab Than."

Stunned silence filled the chamber. Shoulders slumped in defeat, heads were buried in hands, and tears fell from eyes long unaccustomed to moisture as the nobles of Helium struggled to come to terms with the fact their princess was beyond their aid. You see it is the pledge that makes the marriage. The ceremony afterward is but a celebration of an already established fact. Oath pledge can only be dissolved by the mutual consent of the parties thereto – and somehow I didn't think Sab Than would so oblige us.

Finally a youthful Jedwar, newly promoted for valor, rose from his bench. "Then Dejah Thoris must be widowed with all possible dispatch." There are sane men in Helium, though one must search long and hard to find them!

My grandfather shook his head. "You speak treason Phan Pol, with his marriage Sab Than becomes a Prince of the House of Mors."

"With respect my Jeddak that is folly," Phan Pol replied with breathtaking frankness. Oh I liked this man! "Do any here believe Dejah Thoris marries the prince of Zodanga for any reason but to save Helium from destruction? To grant Sab Than kin right is no different from the assassin who invades the house claiming guest privilege!"

"Phan Pol speaks good sense, my king," said Ineen Istar fixing her wonderful eyes full on my grandfather's. "Can any man believe that Than Kosis will scruple to set assassins on you and our son, on his sons, nay even on the granddaughter sitting here at our feet, to obtain the throne of Helium for Sab Than?"

A look of horror came into Tardos Mors' face, and my father's too, as if that possibility had never crossed either of their minds. Sometimes I truly do despair. A rumbling growl of rage rose from the benches. Grandfather took a deep breath, visibly forcing himself to speak calmly; "You speak wisdom, my queen. And you Phan Pol are no traitor. Questions of honor cannot arise when dealing with the likes of Than Kosis. I agree Sab Than must die," he sighed, "though how we are to manage the deed is another matter. We will wait on opportunity."

And there we left it. What else could we do? Gradually our fleet filtered back over the next few days. Always heavily escorted by elements of the Zodangan fleet who promptly joined the forces encamped around the city. Clearly Than Kosis understood exactly how Heliumites felt about this new alliance, and was taking appropriate precautions. These included retaining the persons of my brothers, Tarkil Kajak and Gemil Kajak, believing correctly that they would not let a little thing like the armies and navies of Zodanga keep from their sister's side were they left at liberty!

….

I awoke to a weighty burden of grief, it took only a moment for me to remember why; today was my sister's wedding day! Oh my poor Dejah Thoris! And to make it all the bitterer her sacrifice wouldn't be rewarded by the peace she sought.

Sava served my breakfast on the terrace as is our custom. I managed a mouthful or two of somp fruit then put down my spoon. "I can't eat."

"Starving yourself will not help Dejah Thoris," said Urta.

"Nothing can help her," I answered and struggled to fight down tears. Rahab did not help by bursting into sobs herself.

Sava shook her by the shoulder. "That's enough of that my girl, and you too my princess. Let us distract our minds with exercise."

I put aside my tray and rose. "You mean a sparring match, Sava?"

She shook her head. "No, in our distracted frame of mind we'd be like to injure ourselves. What say you to a game of balalek, Kadjah Thoris?"

Anything was better than sitting and brooding over the horrors of my sister's fate so I agreed. Balalek is played with small hollow balls of gold, one for each player. The object of the game is to keep all the balls continually in the air, if a player allows one to drop she is eliminated – but her ball isn't. The fewer players the harder it is to keep all the balls in play, thus the challenge. The game went on for quite some time and while it did not completely distract me from my sister's plight it did keep me from dwelling uselessly upon it. Eventually Rahab was left in sole possession of the field deftly juggling all four balls. A bath in the tank of sun heated water shaded by a pergola at the far end of my roof garden followed.

I floated in the liquid warmth, soothed by the heady scent of the great clusters blossoms burdening the foiteria vines trained over the spun gold lattices, and by the delicate, wistful music of Urta's tri-pipes. Though the ache in my heart did not go away my racing thoughts were lulled to stillness – until the roar of ship engines overhead drowned the music and brought me fully back to myself.

I tumbled from the tank, followed by my girls, and we stood on the scarlet sward squinting upward as the recently restored armadas of Helium passed overhead on their way to where?

"Something has happened!" Rahab cried somewhat unnecessarily.

I wasted no time in words but raced for the ramp to my chambers and commanded the lift within them to carry me up to my grandsire's command post. We emerged, all four still wet from our bath, to find Father and Grandfather and their officers bent over the great ground glass screens set in table like frames, and their words made it clear they knew little more of what was happening than did we.

I pushed my way between two of the officers standing around the largest screen. It showed great battle ships bearing the colors of Zodanga and others hung about with our colors aloft and locked in battle of the conventional kind; pounding each other with broadsides as each side jostled for altitude.

Studying the screens I saw other ships, also bearing our colors, circling above the battle as seeming observers their batteries silent and pointed to them. "What are they doing, why do they hold aloof?"

Father shook his head, almost as confused as I. "Phan Pol reports they are powdering the Zodanga ships with small arms fire to excellent effect but he knows no more than we why they do not use their guns. They are not our ships though they fly our colors." I looked at him in astonishment and he explained; "They came from the direction of Zodanga their upper-works strung with our banner, but who commands them and why they have come to our aid we know not."

"From Zodanga," I breathed, an uncredulous hope rising in my breast. "Oh, Father, could it be Kantos Kan? Might not Dejah Thoris be with him?"

"If it is so then he is no man but a magician," said my grandfather.

The navy of Helium is the best in the world and it was not long before our ships gained altitude on the invaders downing their ships or forcing their surrender. Captured vessels manned by prize crews crowded our aerial docks but the men aboard could tell us nothing new about our unexpected ally.

Suddenly Urta, watching the battle through the great windows along with my other girls and the junior officers and signalmen, gave a cry; "Dejah Thoris!" following the line of her frantically pointing finger all in the command post saw what she had seen; my sister's personal colors being raised over the victorious ships.

The men cheered, chanting her name: "Dejah Thoris! Dejah Thoris!"

A signalman pushed his way through the crowd to my grandfather's side. "Sire! Sire! The princess comes – Phan Pol signals she is aboard the flag ship and he is bringing her directly to the palace!"

Whereupon I burst into tears.

…..

I had to wait my turn to embrace my sister. Grandfather and father went first, but almost at once they were drawn aside into conference with Phan Pol. Then it was Grandmother and Mother's turn.

My attention in the meantime was distracted by the astonishing sight of a Green Martian woman standing well apart, her head hanging giving her a strangely timid air. I spoke to her: "Who are you, woman, and how come you here?"

"Sola is my name," she answered. "I am Dejah Thoris's friend and she is mine."

I did not ask how or why my sister had befriended her. She had done so, for now that was all I needed to know. "Then welcome, Sola. I am Kadjah Thoris and my sister's friends are as mine."

She smiled, her great, liquid eyes softening the fearsome sight. "So now I have three! I am rich indeed."

Before I could say more I heard Dejah Thoris's voice raised behind me: "Kadjah Thoris? Where are you, sister?"

"Here!" I cried and flung myself into her arms. "Oh Dejah, Dejah, I was so afraid I would never see you again!"

"As was I," she answered and pushed me back to arms length that she might look at me. Her lovely face contracted. "Oh sister, did you grieve so!"

"Yes!" then I understood her dismay and laughed. "No! I was bathing when your ships were sighted that is all." On Barsoom those in deepest grief and the blackest despair lay aside not only ornaments but weapons and harness walking abroad completely unadorned as outward sign that the world for them is empty and they desire naught but release from it.

"And what are these jewels you are wearing, my granddaughter?" Ileen Istar asked, as well she might for Dejah Thoris was all ablaze with the many-colored fires of the rarest gems thickly set in platinum and gold.

She made a moue of distaste. "This trash is the wedding finery of a princess of Zodanga which I am not, thanks to John Carter!"

Grandmother's eyebrows rose, "And who is John Carter?" she asked.

Dejah's color deepened. "He is my chieftain, the greatest warrior and noblest spirit on all Barsoom!"

Mother and I exchanged looks of dismay. By naming him her chieftain Dejah Thoris had just told us she had promised herself to a man we had never even heard of, much less seen! Befriending a Green Woman was as nothing compared to this!

"That is all very interesting my dear," Grandmother said composedly, "but what is his city and who are his people?"

Dejah laughed a little unsteadily. "That is hard to explain. Come, I would rid myself of these slave's gauds. Let us to my chambers and I will tell you all."

….

My sister stood still as her slave girls, tearful with joy and relief, disinvested her of her scorned finery. One plucked the multitudinous ornamental combs and pins from her high piled hair, another pulled bracelet after bracelet from her arms and a third, kneeling at her feet, unclasped the broad ankle-cuffs and removed the bejeweled sandals. Finally Dejah Thoris herself slipped the straps of the harness from her shoulders, unclasped the belt and let it fall spurning it with a bare foot.

"There!" she said running fingers through her loosened hair. "That is for you Sola, a spoil of war. Zora, the sandals and ankle cuffs are yours. Fanar you may keep the bracelets and Sharas the hair ornaments fall to you. They were gifts to a slave, let them adorn slaves!"

Mother, Grandmother, Sola and I followed Dejah Thoris into the bathroom leaving her girls staring stunned at their new wealth. She sank gratefully into the cool water, her hair floating around her.

"Now," Grandmother commanded, "Tell us of this John Carter."

She obeyed and it was the most extraordinary story I have ever heard, outstripping even the romances written of the elder days in excitement and incident. First Dejah Thoris had been captured by the Green Tharks encamped in the ancient city of Korad. There she had found her John Carter, also a captive but a privileged one having earned the honors of a chief by his prowess. By that same means he had won custody of Dejah Thoris placing her in the care of Sola, one of his attendants. Together they had planned their escape and Sola whose gentle heart and kind soul made her miserable among her own kind had decided to join them.

At that point in the story Grandmother got up and solemnly kissed Sola of the Tharks, naming her Sola of Helium and promising her a daughter's place in the House of Tardos Mors. Overwhelmed the Green Woman wept and our own highly wrought emotions caused us to join our tears to hers.

When we had calmed Dejah Thoris continued her story: Their plan had failed but John Carter had rescued her from the literal grasp of the fiendish Tal Hajus – whose infamy was known even to Red Martians – and they had fled together all three only to ride directly into the path of a troop of Warhoons! John Carter had put Dejah and Sola on their remaining thoat and himself stayed behind to prevent pursuit – succeeding, Dejah had thought, at the cost of his life. In truth he had been taken alive by the Warhoons and imprisoned in their pits where he found, of all people, Kantos Kan! Set to fight each other in the arena Kantos Kan had pretended to kill John Carter and been declared victor. He had been promised his freedom but the Warhoons had kept their word by abandoning him on the seabed where he was eventually found by the Zodangans. This was also Dejah Thoris and Sola's fate as they tried to make their way to Helium. In the meantime John Carter had escaped Warhoon and was also journeying to Helium by way of the Tephat canal. This of course led him straight into Zodanga where he again encountered Kantos Kan and the two of them joined forces to rescue Dejah. John Carter gained admission to the palace and even to her prison only to learn that she - the little fool! – had pledged herself to Sab Than!

Here the story was interrupted again this time by the scolding of my grandmother, my mother and myself. Dejah tried to defend herself at first but eventually conceded she had indeed been a fool and promised never to do the like again should similar circumstances arise – which I for one considered only too probable.

Having slain her guards John Carter was forced to flee, making still for Helium, but his compass had been damaged in his escape and instead he found himself again among the Tharks! Fortunately he, like Dejah Thoris, had succeeded in finding a friend among that fierce people, a Jed named Tars Tarkas who slew the evil Tal Hajus and succeeded him as Jeddak. He and John Carter then made alliance leading the vast horde of the Tharks against Zodanga just in time to interrupt Dejah Thoris' forced wedding. Sab Than, Than Kosis and most of their nobles were dead and the city itself had been given over to sack by the Green Men. I winced a little at the thought then shrugged it aside. A man dies, a woman dies and what does it matter when Barsoom itself is dying?

John Carter and his friend Tars Tarkas had left them to it, loading Thark warriors onto captured ships with prisoners for crews. They'd set course for Helium with the result we had seen. John Carter had sent word through Phan Pol of his intention to attack the Zodangan ground forces with his Thark allies and asked for a supporting attack from the city - which explained why Father and Grandfather were not with us.

"All this is very interesting, my dear," said Grandmother when Dejah Thoris's story had ended. "But it does not answer my question; who is this savior of yours and where does he come from?"

Dejah didn't look at all happy. "He says he is from Jasoom," she admitted reluctantly continuing hastily as Mother uttered a cry of dismay. "And I believe him. He has the look of the northern Jasoomians with their white skin and his eyes are a color I have never seen on Barsoom."

"But how did he get here?" I asked. "As you know I am an observer of our sister planet and I assure you, Dejah Thoris, they have no airships at all – much less vessels capable of travelling through the void."

Dejah looked still more uncomfortable. "Not even he knows how he comes to be on Barsoom. He told me he fell into a trance in a cave on his own world and found himself standing outside his body. He then left the cavern and looked up towards Barsoom – which he calls Mars - and the next moment he found himself lying on the ochre lichen of the dead sea's bottom trying to understand what had happened to him."

"You are saying he is a spirit?" Grandmother asked.

"Oh no! He is flesh," Dejah answered quickly – and then blushed redder than the scarlet gloresta flower.


	2. My Prince Comes

As I have said observing the peoples of Jasoom is one of my several interests, a study that became much more enlightening with John Carter to explain what I was seeing.

He, Dejah Thoris and I stood around the glass screen beneath the unwinking stars of Barsoom. Sava delicately adjusted the astronomical instruments and the image became larger and clearer. We seemed to be looking down from an altitude of perhaps a hundred feet on a mean little village set down in the midst of an endless yellow–green plain. The buildings were crudely constructed of weathered gray wood and the dirt track running between them was crowded by Jasoomians of all ages and both sexes moving slowly towards a larger white building crowned by a short spire.

"It must be Sunday," John Carter said. "The people are on their way to worship our God." He indicated the white building. "That is His church."

"So Jasoom has a god rather than a goddess," I said. "Tell me John Carter, why do your people cover themselves with layers of drab cloth?"

"Our climate is different from yours," he answered, "it is often cold and liquid and frozen water both frequently fall from the sky. We wear coverings to protect ourselves from the weather."

I shook my head at him; "No, John Carter, that will not do." I indicated a gauge. "It is not at all cold nor is there water falling on these villagers – so why have they not discarded their coverings?"

John Carter looked uncomfortable. "Well… the truth is it is our custom to wear coverings at all times."

"But why?" Dejah asked, astonished.

"I used to think it was to cover the shame of bodily disfigurement," said I. "But John Carter disproved that theory being as perfectly formed a man as I have ever seen." My sister's husband blushed and Dejah Thoris looked smug. "So - as Dejah asked; why?"

He sighed. "Kadjah, can you explain the reason for every custom of the Barsoomians?"

My sister and I both laughed. "You have a point there, John Carter," I had to admit.

He shrugged. "It is custom. And to be frank we believe that the right clothing enhances our appearance."

That got him disbelieving looks not only from Dejah and myself but from Sava as well. "All I can say is your people have a curious sense of aesthetics!" my sister said.

John Carter went on to explain that the village we were observing was a new settlement as his people had only recently begun to expand into the midlands of the North Western continent. He would have liked to show us some of their older cities but unfortunately all of these were obscured by hazes caused, he said, by the fuels his people burned for heat and light.

Finally our wandering eye fell upon an elegant stone building surrounded by lawns and trees of that strange green color with flower gardens laid out like brightly patterned carpets. This, John Carter said, was a mansion belonging to a wealthy merchant of 'New York' a great city on Jasoom.

Groups of Jasoomians dotted the lawns and gardens, the men and women often walking arm in arm. The men wore the same drab trappings and conical headdresses as the poor villagers but the women were draped in light fabrics trimmed with bright colors their garments made to fit them closely to the waist then flaring out into great bell shaped skirts. flowers and plumy feathers adorned their head coverings. The dresses looked cumbersome in the extreme but Dejah and I had to admit they were not unattractive.

Urta appeared at the opening of the spiral ramp linking the rooftop observatory to the rest of my suite. "The guests gather, Kadjah Thoris." Sava set the instruments to automatic scan and record and the four of us descended a floor to the workroom where my girls and I pursue our several avocations.

Rahab was at work at the tapestry loom occupying one corner with her skeins of many hued silk pegged to the wall beside it. The opposite corner held a half-finished folding screen of beautifully striated petrified wood from one of Barsoom's many dead forests together with an array of delicate chisels hanging on the wall behind, this belonged to Urta who was skilled in such work. Sava's workbench in a third corner held a selection of fine ground glass lenses and delicate golden gears belonging to the camera she was making. My desk occupied the final corner, flanked by low racks of books and recording spools. The entire room was ringed by wide windows which admitted plentiful light by day supplemented at night by the radium bulbs set in the fretted ceiling.

Rahab promptly rose and joined the rest of us in the lift. It carried us down two levels, past my reception hall to my private chambers where we removed the fur robes we had donned against the chill of Barsoom's night. We did not however shed the silk robes we wore beneath for it is none too warm even within walls inset with heating elements, especially as many of our room are open to gardens or terraces. We reentered the lift and descended to the main level of the palace where we were joined by several warriors of the Jeddak's guard; two for Dejah Thoris, two for me, and two (completely unnecessarily) for John Carter. We fell in with the brilliantly bejeweled crowd moving slowly towards the great reception halls. My slave girls soon turned down a side corridor leading to the service quarters. Urta and Rahab both had roles to play in the entertainment and Sava of course would serve me as usual.

The third door after that led to the small withdrawing room where we found the rest of the family assembled; parents, grandparents and my brothers, waiting for us before making their entrance.

"We are not late," I said defensively into the mildly reproachful silence.

"I do not say that you are," Grandfather replied. "Come, John Carter." He signaled to the guards and they threw open the doors leading to the reception hall beyond.

"The Jeddak comes!" I heard the herald proclaim, "Tardos Mors!" Grandfather stepped through the doors the brilliant lighting scintillating dazzlingly over the jewels encrusting his harness and weapons. "The Jed comes!" the herald continued; "Mors Kajak!" And my father followed Grandfather through the door. Then: "The Prince comes! John Carter!" "The Prince comes! Tarkil Kajak!" "The Prince comes! Gemil Kajak!"

Grandmother, mother, Dejah Thoris and I waited long enough to allow our men to reach the dais at the opposite end of the room before making our own entrances. "The Jeddara comes! Ileen Istar!" "The Jeddara comes! Thoris of Accer!" then it was my turn:

"The princess comes! Kadjah Thoris!" I stepped through the doorway. As usual the eyes of the assembled guests slid right past me to watch expectantly for Dejah Thoris' entrance - all but one pair.

Two dark eyes burning with something warmer than admiration remained fixed on mine. I had seen such looks many times but never directed at me! The eyes were set in a boldly modeled face that instantly became my ideal of male beauty. He wore his hair cropped short after the fashion of the northern cities and the metal adorning his leather harness was beautifully patinaed and decorated with finely chased designs both elegant and austere, but unadorned with jewels or gold.

My heart pounded in my ears and my breath came short. Then arm slipped through mine making me jump. "Kadjah Thoris?" my sister's sweet voice said in my ear, "why do you stand here?"

I suffered myself to be led to the dais, feeling those eyes on me all the while, and took my place between Mother and Dejah. To my delight the owner of said eyes was approaching my grandsire. He paused at the foot of the dais to make a bow which Tardos Mors returned meaning my admirer must be at least a Jed.

"Welcome, Mens Atrios," Grandfather said.

And now I knew exactly who he was. Dejah Thoris had of course had a plethora of suitors before John Carter won her heart and hand. Agan Atrios Jeddak of Mikena, an empire fully as large as Helium dominating the northern hemisphere of Barsoom, had proposed a double alliance; Dejah Thoris was to be his Jeddara and I mated with his younger brother. Formerly I had been indignant at being passed over in favor of my younger sister yet again. Needless to say my feelings were now very different!

"Tardos Mors, the dual marriage proposed by my brother can never now be, the Princess Dejah Thoris having chosen otherwise, but with your consent I would press my suit for the Princess Kadjah."

Grandfather smiled. "My consent you have. It is my granddaughter's you must win for no daughter of Helium is ever married save at her own wish."

Mens Atrios turned towards me our eyes locking. Once again I forgot how to breathe. He drew his long sword. It was a businesslike weapon as practical as his metal, the leather wrapping the grip well worn. "Kadjah Thoris, I lay my sword and my heart at your feet," he said suiting action to word.

I know it is the custom for a woman to temporize, to make conditions or at least delay her answer but such games are for the coy and cruel or those who don't know their own minds and I was neither. I returned the sword to him hilt first. "Take my heart in exchange for your own, my prince," I said. And that was that.

Mors Kajak looked at my mother. "Our daughters make up their minds quickly, my princess."

"As did I," Thoris of Accer answered.

The banquet passed like a dream. Normally I enjoy watching Urta dance but that night I could look at nothing but my prince. Truly I had never expected to fall in love – indeed had prayed that I would not as I never expected any man to notice me once he'd laid eyes on my sister. Mens Atrios seemed equally dazed, his eyes scarcely leaving mine.

"You are not a talker, my prince." I ventured as we took the floor to dance.

He smiled. "I cannot believe my good fortune, my princess. That I of all men should win the Jewel of Helium so quickly -"

I interrupted; "You have seen my sister, have you not?"

He glanced over his shoulder at Dejah Thoris seated at our table talking to John Carter at her side then turned back to me with a visible shrug. "She is lovely. But there is no comparison."

"So I have always been told," I answered wondering if my love's eyesight was all it should be.

….

I had never been as happy as I was in the following days - indeed looking back on my earlier life it seemed as if I'd never been happy before at all! Every bit of bitterness I'd ever felt towards family and city was dissolved by my new joy. Mens Atrios' continued delusion regarding the superiority of my beauty over that of my sister delighted me and my concerns for his sight and his sanity were soothed by John Carter. Laughing my brother assured me that _every_ woman is the most beautiful in the eyes of the man who loves her.

I should have known something would go wrong. This is Barsoom and I am Kadjah Thoris!

John Carter's narrow escape from a poisonous Ventha worm discovered in his bath chamber at a _most_ inconvenient moment roused no undue suspicion. Barsoom is full of dangerous creatures and for all our precautions our homes are not proof against them. The incident was dismissed as an unfortunate accident. It was rather more difficult to dismiss the explosion of the destroyer _Thoris _moments after John Carter had disembarked. A careful study of the wreckage revealed a fault in the energy interchange unit of the radium battery as the most likely cause. Well, accidents do happen – especially to John Carter!

It was however quite impossible to regard a near miss from a rifle – which would have been a deadly hit had my prince not pushed John Carter out of range just in time – as anything but an attempted assassination.

But who would want John Carter dead? The most likely suspects were the surviving nobility and elite merchants of Zodanga. But with half of them dead, and the other half enslaved it was impossible to see how any could have been in a position to hire a professional – if somewhat inept – assassin.

"Holy Issus truly favors my husband," Dejah Thoris said fervently.

"He must require her entire attention," I answered dryly.

We sat together in my roof garden under the shadow of a silken canopy nibbling idly at the contents of a bowl of fruit and sweets as we talked.

Dejah turned a kringol berry in nervous fingers. "But what enemies can John Carter have outside of the Zodangans?"

"That is the question," I agreed. Granted Barsoom has its share of madmen but madmen who can purchase the services of an assassin are fairly uncommon.

Rahab came out of my rooms, descending the ramp from the terrace and crossing the scarlet sward towards us. "Kadjah Thoris, Dejah Thoris, the Jeddak requests your presence in his study."

We found Grandfather seated behind his desk looking very grave with Father standing to his left and a distressed looking John Carter to his right. Mens Atrios stood facing them all, tight lipped and impassive.

I moved at once to his side. "What is happening here?"

"We have discovered who is behind the attempted assassination of John Carter; Agan Atrios!" my grandsire answered.

I looked at my prince. He refused to meet my eye, his face darkened by a flush of shame. My heart went out to him. What a horrible thing to learn about one's own brother. I took his hand. "Oh, Mens Atrios, I am so sorry!"

He looked down at me, face softening in something like relief. "As am I, Kadjah Thoris."

"Kadjah Thoris."

I looked at my grandfather. It took me a moment to correctly interpret his expression. My hand tightened on Mens Atrios'. "You cannot believe my prince had any hand in this!"

"It is not an unreasonably assumption," Mens Atrios said tensely.

"Yes it is!"

"I agree," that was John Carter, his arm around Dejah Thoris's waist he spoke directly to my grandfather. "I have come to know Mens Atrios quite well, sir. I would as soon believe myself capable of such infamy as he."

"You may well be right, John Carter," Grandfather said heavily. "But complicit or no his honor is tied to his brother. I cannot allow my house to be united with the metal of one so tarnished."

I gaped at him in horror and disbelief.

"I understand, Tardos Mors," Mens Atrios said in a stifled voice.

"I do not!" I cried, "It is you I am marrying not your brother!" I turned to Mors Kajak in appeal; "Father -"

"The Jeddak has spoken, daughter," he said quietly. "And I believe wisely."

Gently disengaging his hand from mine Mens Atrios bowed to the three behind the desk then turned and left the room.

I stared after him too stunned yet to truly feel the pain then turned like a she-banth upon my menfolk.

"How dare you sacrifice my happiness to your idiotic honor! Was it not enough for you to ignore and disregard me all my life? Must you destroy my sole chance to escape you as well?" I caught a brief glimpse of shocked and gaping faces before whirling to flee the room. I ran all the way back to the refuge of my own apartment.


	3. Escape

I threw myself upon the furs and silks heaped on the low platform in the center of my sleeping chamber burying my face in the softness of a thick white apt pelt as the tears finally came in a flood.

'Unfair! Unfair!' I wailed mentally as sobs choked my voice. Dejah Thoris had _her_ prince, why must I be deprived of mine? Men! I hated them all, yes even Mens Atrios, how _dare_ he leave me! The fool! The madman! Oh my darling, my darling… I was incoherent with rage and grief and well on the way to madness myself when I felt a touch on my shoulder.

"Go! Away!"

"Not until you look me in the face and tell me to go," answered a voice that belonged to neither Urta, nor Rahab nor Sava.

"Mens Atrios!" I twisted round and clung to him, now weeping onto the hardness of his metal which I trusted was not given to rust. "I thought you'd gone. I thought you'd left me!"

"Never while I live," my prince vowed. "Kadjah Thoris, Kadjah Thoris, look at me." I obeyed gladly. "I understand your grandfather's decision yes, but I do not and cannot submit to it. Nor can I forgive my brother his treachery. I have a kingdom of my own, my princess. Pharos is no great empire like Helium but it is beautiful, almost beautiful enough to be a fit home for you. Will you come with me? Will you be my queen?"

"Of course, you idiot!" I choked. "I hate this city, I hate it. I have been so miserable here! I want to go and never come back. When can we leave?"

He grimaced. "I may go freely at any time – indeed the sooner the better! Getting you out unnoticed will be more difficult."

I smiled smugly. "No it won't.

…

I had never used my secret ways to leave the palace – why should I? – but I knew of no less than three hidden exits, unguarded and unknown to any but myself. Getting out my plans I spread them upon my bed table and traced the routes one by one for Mens Atrios' benefit. "This one passes through the pits and comes out at the main channel of the city cloaca. I'd rather not take that one."

"Nor I," he said, his breath warm on by ear as he hung over my shoulder.

"This one goes through the attics and tween spaces to an old door in a sheer wall here – I think there was once a wing of the palace there but now it overlooks a side avenue. We could use that door with equilibrimotors but floaters so close to the palace are likely to attract notice. I think the third route will be our best choice."

Our plans laid I summoned my three slave girls. They stared in astonishment at Mens Atrios at my side.

"How did you get in here?" Sava blurted.

"Over the roofs," he answered and smiled down at me. "But your mistress knows a better route whereby we may leave."

"Leave?" Urta asked looking from my prince to me. "You are going with him Kadjah Thoris?"

"Mens Atrios had no hand in the attacks on John Carter," I answered, "and I don't care what his brother is or has done I am pledged to him and will not break my word even at my grandsire's command." I handed each a signed and sealed document. "You are free. Tell my grandfather I am gone with my prince, never to return to Helium. I want neither dowry nor blessing from him or my father either. Tell my sister and my mother and grandmother -" I paused. "No, you need tell them nothing. They will understand what I do and why."

"How can we tell them anything when we will not be here?" said Sava.

I looked at her, taken aback. "But – I promise my grandfather will respect your freedom. Surely you can -"

"I mean," Sava interrupted, "we will not be here because we will be gone with you, my princess." Behind Urta and Rahab nodded emphatic agreement.

"But – but you are free," I said.

"Yes, we know," Sava answered. "And we chose to use that freedom to follow you and your prince. Is that so hard for you to understand, Kadjah Thoris?"

I folded her in my arms, blinking back tears. "No, no. But I do thank you for it!"

….

It was as well we had the girls with us. It made aspects of our plan that had seemed so difficult very easy. Rahab for example could walk openly into any storeroom and out again with a filled pocket-pouch no questions asked where I would certainly have attracted notice. And Sava found it no more difficult to slip into the guardroom at the base of my lift and out again with a full set of warriors' metal en-signed with my grandsire's insignia.

Mens Atrios exchanged his own plain but elegant metal for a richly be-gemmed set such as was worn by our palace guards while we girls changed into our plain fighting harnesses of braided leather then covered them with the glittering ornaments of a palace woman. Neither slave nor servant these women are the wives and daughters of officers and officials given the freedom of the palace to adorn our court for no Jeddak can ever have too many beautiful women in his palace. Then Urta swept our hair up into the appropriate coiffure with swift, deft fingers and finally took out her palette of cosmetics with which she expertly altered our features just enough to make each of us unrecognizable at first glance – useless labor in my case since nobody ever bothers to look at me at all!

Rahab wore her daggers but Sava rolled her sword and Urta's and mine up in a length of silk which she then slung from her shoulder. I thought briefly and wistfully of my books and recordings then dismissed them from my mind. I would have no need books to fill up empty days in Pharos.

When we were ready I raised a trapdoor hidden beneath the marble and ersite tiles of my sleep-chamber floor and dropped lightly into the space beneath followed by my prince and my girls.

"What is this place?" Mens Atrios asked softly looking with wonder at the massive beams and trusses hemming us in on every side.

"A 'tween space," I replied in a normal tone of voice. "These are the supports for the palace roof. We need not fear being heard here. Follow me." I wriggled my way confidently between and sometimes under the mighty bars of carborundum dimmed by the tarnish of unknown ages until we came to a wall of that same metal pierced by a small door.

"Now we must be silent," I told my prince, my hand on the door's latch. "This is one of the great vents that carries air from great wind catchers on the roofs above down to the inner chambers and would carry our words to who knows what ears. You will find hand-holds on the sides intended, like this door, for repairmen." I swung myself inside, swarming easily down the polished sides of the vent thanks to those same sturdy hand-holds.

A gigantic impellor on the roof drove the air downward creating a strong but not uncomfortable breeze. Smaller impellors hummed in openings piercing all three metal walls driving fresh air into the vents running between floors. I descended until I came to a branching vent opening whose fan I had long since removed and wriggled through it into a small, long sealed closet that was however quite clean as I often passed through it. Mens Atrios had some trouble fitting through the vent but after removing all his harness he managed it with me pulling at his arms and the girls pushing from behind.

"Where are we now?" he asked as he re-donned his metal.

"On the third level," I answered. "This part of the palace was sealed off during a renovation of the Jeddak's personal quarters in my great-grandfather's day. Follow me." The small utility closet opened onto a broad corridor decorated with delicately tinted reliefs engraved on ivory panels. "This used to be the formal entrance to the Jeddak's suite I continued to Mens Atrios. I opened a gold plated door. "And this was the private entrance." A short passage led to a steep and tightly spiraling ramp its scarlet floor tiles rough finished for traction with golden chains strung along the walls to hold on to.

The three doors in the small vestibule at the ramp's end had all been walled up but that didn't matter as a section of the carved sorapus wood paneling stood open. "These mural passages honeycomb the ancient walls at the core of the palace," I murmured to my prince. "As far as I know only I and my girls remember their existence. Certainly I've never seen sign of anybody else using them." This was perhaps understandable as the passages, hewn through solid stone, are so narrow that Mens Atrios had to edge sideways and even I felt cold marble brush my shoulder tips and flanks as I slide easily through the blackness accustomed by long habit to finding my way through the maze of passages by touch alone. The trailing fingers of my right hand passed over one, two, three openings then I reach out with my left searching the smooth wall for the raised edges of the square of tile covering a peephole. I looked through it into one of the large side halls of the palace leading to double doors opening onto a side street running under the palace walls. The doors stood open and the big room was full of people passing in and out under the casual gaze of a pair of bored sentries, after acertaining that nobody was looking our way I touched a lever that sank into the stone and a section of marble walling drew aside.

"Quickly!" I hissed. My companions whisked through one after another and finally I followed the panel sliding closed behind me. Nobody had seen. We joined the stream of off duty guardsmen, palace women, petitioners and sightseers streaming towards the high doors passing unnoticed and unchallenged into the street beyond.

"Where to now?" I asked my prince. Now it was his turn to lead. He took me by the hand and headed westward towards the city walls. I looked over my shoulder. Sava, Urta and Rahab were right behind us and I realized I was taking with me all that I would miss in Helium.

….

Mens Atrios brought us to a stumpy tower supporting a landing stage for freighters. We took a creaking lift upwards and emerged into a shadowy hanger, its doors gaping westward giving a clear view over the walls to the ochre plains beyond.

"What a piece of junk!" Urta blurted.

I started to reprove her but Mens Atrios squeezed my hand and gave her an unoffended grin. "Exactly what I said at first my first sight of her but that is all to the good for no one would expect to find a princess and prince of Barsoom's two greatest empires on such a tub."

He had a point there. The boat was perhaps sixty sofads (1) long and about forty broad giving it a bulbous, ungraceful look. A cargo crane jutted from the center of the mid-deck between the fore and aft cabins. As I followed Mens Atrios up the boarding ladder I saw the aluminum steel plates of her sides were dull and scratched from long hard usage and so was the ursa-wood of her deck but at least it was clean.

Two men came out of the after-cabin and two more from the steering house forward. All wore the plain leather of merchant airmen though their fine physiques and airs of command gave it the lie.

"These are my most trusted warriors," Mens Atrios said.

A black browed Red man wearing his hair in the long braids of the Toonolian Marsh cities stepped forward. "The sword of Bar Cado is at your feet, O Queen," he said suiting action to word.

A handsome square jawed warrior with short cropped hair like my prince's and a scar beside one eye bent to lay his sword next to Bar Cado's. "The blade of Krix Sator is also your majesty's to command."

The third of my prince's trusted men was even taller than the first two and magnificently built with his longish hair tied back by leather thongs. The sword he laid at my feet was a huge double handed scimitar; "And that of Mak Koth."

The fifth man folded his great arms across a vast expanse of chest and glared down at us all from his seven sofads of height. "You pick an ill time for your court manners!" he all but sneered. "What is all this, Mens Atrios? I thought you went to fetch your princess not a whole harem!"

My prince gave me an apologetic look. "And this is my old Armsmaster, Koor of Hekka."

Which of course explained everything; old retainers rather pride themselves on not standing on ceremony with masters they have known from the egg. I swept up Bar Cado and Krix Sator's swords in one hand and Mak Koth's great blade in the other and proffered them back to their various owners hilt first. "I accept your service with gratitude, gentlemen, but the Armsmaster is right, this is not the time for fair speeches." I then favored Koor with a cool look, "Sava, Urta and Rahab are _my_ sworn followers, Master of Arms, not concubines for my prince."

"So watch your mouth," Sava growled under her breath. She meant to be heard and she was. Koor ignored her but I saw the other men exchange covert smiles.

"Are we cleared for take-off?" my prince asked.

"Long since, if we linger any longer we are likely to attract notice," Koor growled and led the way into the steering house. Mens Atrios threw me an apologetic smile and followed along with Bar Cado and Mak Koth.

Krix Sator remained behind. "If the queen and her women will follow me," he murmured and ushered us into the after-cabin.

It proved to be a semicircular chamber more than large enough to accommodate all nine of us. Radium bulbs dotted a ceiling that would undoubtedly prove uncomfortably low for both Mak Koth and Koor of Hekka. Divans piled high with furs and silks lined the curved wall. They were further furnished with headrests and small tables of polished wood.

"I'm sure we will be very comfortable," I told him and he bowed acknowledgment.

Sava unrolled the silk wrappings of the bundle she carried revealing out swords. Krix Sator watched with surprise and respect as we put them on. Then the deck under our feet lurched slightly indicating take off.

I went outside and saw the hangar tower falling away behind us and the blunt bow of the freighter pointed northwest. Turning my back forever on the city of my birth I fixed my mind forward on my new home and kingdom, Pharos.

….

NOTE: 'Sofad' is the Martian foot equal to 11.694 inches.


End file.
